


Truth or Dare

by neocitybynight



Series: Into the Idolverse [2]
Category: K-pop, NCT (Band)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Light Angst, More characters to be added, Smut, a collection of dares brought over from my tumblr, most are suggestive, not full blown, smut chapters marked with s
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:08:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 7,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25918609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neocitybynight/pseuds/neocitybynight
Summary: It’s Friday night at the NCT 127 dorm. The music is loud, the air thick with smoke and the slight smell of burned cheese from the nachos Taeyong made. You’re draped across the arm of a couch, a red solo cup (full of soda or punch, depending on who you are) in one hand, the soft, dyed tresses of a beautiful boy in the other.“Okay, so who’s going first?” Haechan says, looking around the circle, a smirk on his face, before his eyes stop on you. “Hey. Truth or dare?”
Relationships: Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Reader, Huang Ren Jun/Reader, Lee Jeno/Reader, Mark Lee (NCT)/Reader, Na Jaemin/Reader, Park Jisung (NCT)/Reader, Suh Youngho | Johnny/Reader, Wong Kun Hang | Hendery/Reader, Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas/Reader
Series: Into the Idolverse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1965241
Kudos: 100





	1. Jeno (S)

“Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” you say, lifting your chin. You’re feeling in the mood for some chaos tonight, and you can see the same expression mirrored in Haechan’s face. The two of you typically act as evil gamemakers in games like this, always making members do the most embarrassing things.

**“I dare you to make out with Jeno.”**

“HUH?” The word rips from your throat, more of an undignified squeak than anything else.

“You heard me,” Haechan says, raising his eyebrows. “Both of you are tragically single, and honestly, I think it’d be hot.” It’s a secret to nobody but Lee Jeno himself that you have a bit of a crush on him, pretty much since trainee days. But it was just never convenient or _proper,_ really. He’s a good friend, and no matter how hot he is, you’ve just never wanted to go there, out of fear of ruining things or, you know, getting bounced from SM.

But there’s nothing proper about the flush creeping up Jeno’s neck, the way he nibbles his bottom lip, half moon eyes scrunched in a shy smile. _God, he looks cute like that._ Feeling heat sliding across your skin, the thrill of doing something just a little forbidden zinging through your blood, you crawl across the circle, bracing your hands on his shoulders as you climb into his lap, thighs falling to either side of his hips.

He blinks up at you, hands automatically going to your waist. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you say, giggling. What exactly is there to say? _Hello, let’s suck face now._ “You sure you’re okay with this?”

“Yeah,” he says quickly, then glances down shyly. “I mean, yeah, I am, if you are, consent is k-”

You cut him off, lips pressing to his before Haechan can catch on and start giving you shit for being awkward. Jeno makes a surprised noise in the back of his throat, hands squeezing your waist briefly, but he recovers quickly. He kisses back softly at first, just light butterfly touches, but grows bolder as you bite his bottom lip, tongue flicking across the corner of his mouth, causing him to shiver, something you can feel up your entire body.

Jeno’s hands drop from your waist to your thighs, kneading lightly as he deepens the kiss, sighing against your lips. Heat sings through your veins as he drops his head, lips pressing to your collarbone, sucking lightly.

“Oh, God!” Haechan cries, pretending to retch. “I just said make out, not fuck in the living room.”

You look down at Jeno, at the glassy look in his eyes, the slight swelling of his pretty lips, the mussing in his hair, proof of your fingertips. “So, um...”

“Want to get out of here?” he says.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

“I wouldn’t have, if it weren’t for Haechan,” he says, taking your hand, pulling you towards one of the guest rooms. “I’m still going to kill him later though.”


	2. Lucas (S)

“Truth or dare?”

“Ah, I knew you’d pick on me first,” you say. “Let’s go with...dare.”

“Thought you might choose that,” Haechan says. “You know, I still haven’t forgotten the fact that you made me kiss Mark last time...”

"Hey, _jamkkanman,_ I thought we promised-” Mark protests.

“Relax, Marky, I’ll give her something equally embarassing,” Haechan coos. “Okay... **I dare you to give the hottest member besides me a hickey.”**

The room explodes with noise, laughter and hoots. “Fu-Haechan,” you groan.

“Notice I left myself out because I know you’d love to be all over this neck.”

“Would I?” you say. “Well, in that case...” you glance around the room, wondering who would piss Haechan off the most. Tall, dark, handsome...mostly tall. “Yukhei, come here.”

“AYY!” Hendery yells, clapping him on the back. “Let’s go, Xuxi.”

Draining his cup, Yukhei walks over, a cocky smile twisting his mouth. “Well, well. I wasn’t expecting this, but hey.”

“You weren’t?” you roll your eyes, pointing him to sit on the couch. He acquiesces, placing him at nearly your height. “Bullshit. You’re hot and you know it.”

He winks. “You said it, not me. I also have a schedule tomorrow, so if you could avoid my neck...”

“Where do you want it then? I’m not sucking your toes.”

Yukhei’s eyes widen, then he bursts out laughing. “Okay, anywhere but my toes. My body is yours.”

“Hkk-” the sound rips from your throat, and you cough, pretending there’s not heat shooting to literally every part of your being. Raking your eyes across his body, they snag on his golden collarbone. “Unbutton your shirt, like, three buttons.”

“If you wanted me to strip, you could’ve just asked.”

“Okay, now’s the moment when I’m going to ask you to shut up,” you say, sliding forward so you’re nestled between his long legs. “Light, medium, dark?”

_“Dark.”_

“It scares me how you had that ready to go,” you tease. “But okay.”

Leaning down, you press your lips to a spot just above his heart, nibbling lightly. His skin is warm, smooth, just a hint of salt and something fresh, maybe bodywash. A soft sound rolls from his lips at the contact, and you bite harder, tongue swiping over the skin to soothe the mark made by your teeth. “Harder,” Yukhei whispers, voice husky. “Harder, or it won’t bruise.”

You don’t need to look at him to know he’s getting royally fucked over by the feeling. The tension in his chest, the fevered race of his heart, you can feel that all as you bite him again, laving his skin with your tongue, drawing out a moan.

You pull your head back with a slight pop. Yukhei looks down at you, eyes dark as sin. “Well, fuck.”

“Fuck, indeed,” you say. “I think it did it a little too high, your makeup artist might kill me.”

He laughs. “She’ll live. But if you wanted to give me a few more...”


	3. Ten

“Truth or dare?” Haechan nods at you over the rim of his drink.

“Mm...” you say. Given that it’s Haechan, the dare could be literally anything (the last time you played this involved whipped cream, cherries, and Jungwoo’s nipples) but then again, he’ll give you so much shit if you don’t. “Dare.”

“Hm...I dare you to get a massage from the member of your choice, for the next two rounds.”

Nearly everyone in the room _oohs,_ Mark laughing like a maniac, leaning on Johnny’s shoulder.

“Okay,” you say. You know who you want to choose, but the question is, would he do it? Ah, fuck it. **“Ten. You look like you have good hands.”** This sends the room into a tizzy again, made even more rowdy as Ten cracks a crooked smile, patting his lap.

You sink down onto his thigh, hyperaware of each little movement, each shift in fabric as he moves into a more comfortable position. His places his hands on your shoulders, fingers gentle, prospecting. You bite back a yelp as his thumbs press into the juncture between your shoulders and neck. “Ooh, you’re a little tight,” he says, breath blowing softly across the skin. 

Heat flashes to your face, and you clear your throat, wondering if you’re in for a razzing, but everyone else is focused on the next dare, and besides, he says it so quietly, you’re almost sure you imagined it. Humming slightly, you try to focus on the game, but it gets increasingly harder as his fingers grow bolder. An involuntary shiver races up your spine as he kneads a particularly hard knot, and you let out a little yelp.

“Sorry, too hard?” Ten’s fingers, fanning out across the back of your neck, pause.

“No, not at all,” you say, a little breathless. “Keep going.”

He laughs softly. “I hope my hands are as good as you imagined.”

“Hm,” you say. “I don’t know, I might need longer than two rounds to know for sure. If...you know, you want to.”

Ten leans in, the ends of his hair tickling your shoulder, the soft scent of citrus and spice rolling from his skin. “Yeah? How many rounds are you thinking?”

“However many you’ve got in you.”


	4. Haechan (S)

**“Seven minutes, a member of your choice. I dare you.”**

Several members whistle. Haechan winks at you, a challenging gleam in his eyes. You’ve been taking potshots at each other all night - first with beer pong, then with Ring of Fire, and now, he’s looking at you like he’s determined to ruin you with this dare.

A prickle of annoyance, along with something darker, something a little heated and a little competitive, whisks across your skin as he lifts his chin at you, a taunting smile playing across his lips. “You know, you can still choose truth. Nobody will think anything less of you for it.”

“Is that it?” you say, draining the last dregs of your drink and standing. "Why don’t you come in with me then?”

“Yo, did she really-” Mark guffaws. Haechan stares at you, lips slightly parted, as his hyungs clap him on the back, laughing.

“This isn’t a freeze frame, come on,” you say, relishing in the fact that you’ve caught him off guard.

Renjun and Jeno jump up, the former tabbing the stopwatch on his phone while the latter throws open the door. “Go easy on him, will you?” he says, flashing you an eyesmile, clearly happy to see Haechan taken down a peg. “We need him in one piece for the next comeback.”

“Can’t promise that.”

The door closes, leaving you and Haechan sitting in a dark, tense silence.

“You know, I was wondering when you’d get me alone tonight,” you say. Maybe it’s the alcohol talking, but right now, right here, it feels like you’ve both been hurtling on a collision course over the past few months that’s all ended up with both of you, here, kneeling just inches from each other, tension zinging between your bodies like static electricity.

“Yeah?” you hear the shifting of fabric, then light blooms, in the form of Haechan’s phone flashlight. He leans towards you, head tilted slightly. “You’ve been waiting, huh?”

“You wish,” you say. “You’re kind of a tease, you know that?”

“And you’re kind of a bitch.”

“How so?”

“Giving me shit during games, antagonizing me, pretending you don’t know exactly what this is about,” he laughs.

“What what is about?”

 _“This.”_ He leans forward, kissing you.

You make a surprised noise, fingers coming up to fist in his button-down, half to push him away, half to pull him closer, but he doesn’t give you time to think. No, his lips make sure of that, warm and intoxicating and angry, all at once.

You answer back in kind, biting down on his lower lip, arms winding around his neck like a sunflower craning to the sky. Though you’ve thought about kissing Haechan many times before, the reality is...delicious, there’s no other way to describe it. As his hands grip your waist, pulling you towards him with feverish urgency, it’s like you’re fire and he’s gasoline, your bodies flickering and undulating together, hard and soft and desperate, all at once.

A moan rolls from his throat as you grind against him, silk panties sliding against his jean-clad thigh. “Fuck,” he rasps, hands dropping to squeeze your ass, tightly packed into the velvet dress he once told you he thought you looked hot in.

 _That’s your relationship,_ you think, as you wind your fingers into his hair, tugging lightly, pulling another moan that you swallow from his heart-shaped lips, dropping your head to suckle on the strip of golden skin exposed by his button-down. _All the fighting and pushing and teasing but never the follow through._

“Fuck...wanna...touch,” Haechan gasps, biting down on his lower lip as you grind again, heat slowly pooling in your belly. His hand slides down your thigh, playing with the hem of your dress.

“Use your words, Haechannie,” you singsong, and he growls in annoyance. “Where?”

“Everywhere,” he says. At your nod of permission, his hand dives into your panties. He blows out a breath when he feels how wet you are, and you can practically feel his cock twitch against your hip. _“Fuck.”_

His voice is ragged, like a knife through silk, drawing out the singular syllable in a way that has pleasure singing through your veins, draws a soft moan as he slides a finger into you. The first stroke has you grabbing onto his arm, nails digging in as he adds a second finger, slowly thrusting in and out, curling in just the right way that has you seeing stars.

You whine a little as he adds a third, the stretch foreign but not unpleasant, breath coming faster. “Yeah, you like that?” Haechan says, lips brushing against your neck.

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak in coherent words as he cups his hand, thrusting up into your sweet spot.

“What was that?” Haechan’s fingers suddenly withdraw, and you nearly cry out from the loss of contact.

“Haechan, the fu-”

“I asked you a question,” he says. “And as someone so astutely reminded me...”

He rams his fingers back into you, curling right into your g-spot, just as he bites down on your neck. “Use your words.”

You come like that, a hand in his hair, thighs squeezing around his wrist, moans streaming from your pretty lips like gospel. “Ah, Haechan, fuck, don’t, ah, stop-”

“That’s it,” he says, lips trailing across your neck as he strokes you through your orgasm. “That’s it.”

You fall against his chest, thighs trembling, tears wetting your eyes, the last aftershocks rolling through you. Haechan pulls his hand back, then, as you watch, pops his slick fingers into his mouth. You nearly jump him then and there, not caring about the confines of the closet, as he moans a little, sucking your essence off his skin like wine.

“Fuck,” you whisper, hand trailing up his thigh, nearly to the prominent denim-covered bulge when a hand clamps down on your wrist.

“While I’m fully intending to fuck you until the only letters you know are H, A, E, C H, A and N,” Haechan says. “I’d rather it not be in this closet. And not with an army of Dreamies outside listening.”

“HAECHAN-”

“I’m kidding about the Dreamies. Kinda. I heard Renjun yelling at them to leave once things got heated, but,” he holds out a hand, pulling you up to stand in the cramped closet. “Fuck, why didn’t we do that before?”

“You were too busy being a competitive little shit,” you say, as he pushes the closet door open.

“Oh really?” In a whirl, you’re suddenly pressed against the closet door, Haechan’s finger pressing your chin up, forcing you to look up at him. His eyes are dark, pupils blown, a mischievous light shining in them. “You think I’ve competitive now? I can do this all night.”

“You think so?”

“I _know_ so.”


	5. Johnny

_“Truth or dare?”_

_“Dare.”_

_**“Let Johnny do a whipped cream shot off your leg.”** _

It’s not like your boyfriend to be nervous. In fact, after nearly a year of dating, you're not sure there’s much in the world he _wouldn’t_ do, which is why the sight of him on his knees, looking nervous to all hell, while holding a can of whipped cream over your bare thigh is rather shocking.

“C’mon, hyung,” Mark calls, clapping his hands together like a seal, swaying slightly from the alcohol. 

“I’m doing it,” Johnny says, running a hand through his reddish hair, shaking the can vigorously.

“You know, we don’t have to do this,” you say quietly. Though you have to admit that the thought of Johnny’s mouth on your thigh is incredibly hot, you also don’t want to force him. 

Johnny sighs, forehead falling against your outstretched leg. “You’re saying like I don’t want to. It just that when I imagined doing this, I didn’t think it’d be in front of all these people.”

His words send a wave of heat rippling through your veins. “Y-you’ve thought of doing this?”

Johnny looks up at you, a crooked grin on his face. “Are you kidding? The amount of food-related things I’ve imagined...I just wasn’t sure you’d be into it.”

You lean down, propping a finger under his chin. “Tell you what. You finish up this dare, and then we can grab some Baileys, Amaretto, Kahlua, a cherry maybe...and I’ll let you do a full Screaming Orgasm off of me. Any part of me.”

Speechless, that’s also not a trait you’re used to seeing, but for once, you’ve manage to steal his words and all of his rational thought, if the way his eyes darken and his hands tighten on your thighs is any indicator. Reaching out, he sprays a thick line of whipped cream, from your knee to the hemline of your shorts. 

Keeping eye contact, Johnny’s tongue darts out, testing the edge of the frothy whiteness before he licks up your thigh. You let out a squeak as you feel his tongue brushing over your skin so intimately, so brazenly, even as his members watch. A shiver races up your spine as he sucks softly, making sure to pick up any last dregs, tongue running over his lips and your skin.

“Fuck, babe,” you breathe as he stands, pulling you into a hug, laughing as the members absolutely lose their minds.

“You like that?” he asks quietly, voice rumbling through your embrace.

“Is that even a question?”

“Good,” he says, pocketing the whipped cream and gesturing towards the kitchen with his head. “Now, how about that Screaming Orgasm?”


	6. Mark

“Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“You are so boring,” Haechan groans. “Come on, I’m trying to get something going. Fine. **Out of all the members here, who would you most like to kiss?”**

 _Ooooh_ goes the room, amidst the sounds of clapping and catcalling. “Ah, I hate you,” you say. “Um...” There is, legitimately, one person who you would like to say, but you know that if you say it, it would be like opening up a manhole cover and jumping in.

"And just to make sure you don’t lie,” Haechan says. “I’ve brought a friend.” He reaches behind him and pulls out the electric lie detector, its round metal body gleaming menacingly.

“Really, Hyuck? This isn’t Idol Room.”

“Just tell the truth then,” he says. “Okay. Compromise. I’ll give you a member and you say yes or no. If it comes up as true, you’re good. If you get shocked...”

“You have to kiss him,” Chenle pipes up. 

“EXCUSE M-”

“It’s only fair,” Haechan taunts. “I’ll even be nice and say you can choose where. Or, you know, you could keep being a goddamn chicken...”

“Fine,” you say, draining your cup and plunking your hand onto the lie detector. “Hit me.”

Haechan straps your hand in. “Hey, Mark,” he says. “Come hold onto her hand, I want to make sure she doesn’t move.”

Mark blinks, surprised, but reaches over, placing his hand on yours. You take a breath, willing the answer not to show on your face. But the fact is, Haechan is evil, Haechan is smart, Haechan is doing this for a reason, because he knows _exactly_ who you want to kiss.

Haechan hits the button. “Okay. Let me see...” he leans in, lips brushing your ear. “Mark.”

It’s so quiet nobody but you hears, but you can feel heat rising in your face, can feel the thrum of the lie detector under your hand, the pressure of Mark’s hand on yours, the slight heat radiating from his chest behind you. You hate how perceptive Haechan is, and how absolutely willing he is to play dirty. 

“No.”

The machine grinds to a halt, sending a little jolt up your arm. Mark winces, having felt it through your hand, and looks at you curiously. 

“Haechan, I hate you so much,” you growl. 

“Who was it?” Jungwoo asks, taking a sip from his cocktail, eyes gleaming with the anticipation of drama.

You turn to look at Mark, whose hand still rests on yours. “Um...”

 _“Soljighi?”_ Mark says, his voice - a little higher than normal - cracking slightly. He licks his lips, eyes darting from your face, to the lie detector, to Haechan, and back. 

_“Soljighi,”_ you say, and lean forward, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. The room erupts with noise, Haechan yelling at nearly everyone to pay up.

Cheeks flaming, you pull back, blinking shyly at Mark. “Yo, that was...” Mark trails off, touching his cheek like he can feel the ghost of your lips. 

“Sorry,” you say, burying your face in your hands. “I guess I’ve been wanting to do that for awhile, and Haechan just...”

“No, no, it’s quite alright,” Mark says, laughing. He gently pulls your wrists away from your face. “He’s been bugging me for months to just tell you how I feel, but I didn’t know if you felt the same way so, um.”

You cast a dark glance at Haechan. “Let’s find a way to really screw him over in this game. And then...maybe we can kiss again? For real this time?”

Mark nods, smiling shyly. “I’d like that.”


	7. Jaemin (S)

**Words:** 1.2k

 **Contents:** smut, fluff, part of NCT UWRITE ask game (Truth or Dare edition)

“Truth or dare?”

“Haechan, I’m scared,” you say. “The last time we did this, I ended up half naked in bathroom throwing up pickle juice.”

“Relax, I’m feeling generous,” Haechan says. “On the grave of Michael Jackson, I won’t make you do anything worse than...PG-13.”

“Non-graphic sex and you’re allowed to say fuck once _,_ great,” you say. “Fine, dare.”

**“I dare you to sit on the lap of the person next to you for the next two rounds.”**

The mood in the room immediately explodes, everyone except for you and the person sitting to your left laughing and clapping. Because out of everywhere you could’ve sat tonight, you just happened to be sandwiched between Na Jaemin and a potted plant.

You turn to him, lips pressed together, a nervous laugh bubbling from your lips. Sure, you’ve always kind of had a thing for Jaemin (hot, nice, good with kids, who wouldn’t?) but he’s _Jaemin._ Everyone wants a piece of him, so why waste the time being part of the adoring crowd?

But being Jaemin he just laughs, patting his lap. “What do you want for Christmas?” he says, voice shrill, pulling a horribly cute face that makes you hit him. Sinking down onto his lap, you call the next round - making Taeyong confess which member of Red Velvet he’d hook up with - and try to focus on the game.

But it’s very hard when he rests his chin on your shoulder, hands bracketing your hips easily. “Think I’d make a hot Santa?”

“Nana, I’m not dignifying that with a response.”

The scent of cotton and something sweet - maybe peaches? - fills your senses, intoxicating. You really shouldn’t be having thoughts of whether his skin would taste the same, or whether his freshly-dyed blond hair would be soft under your fingers, how good his long fingers would feel-

You cough, shifting slightly, wondering if he can feel the racing of your heart. Maybe you’ve died and gone to Hell, because sitting on the lap of your unrequited crush is really-

Just as you shift back, you feel something hard brush your ass. Jaemin lets out a sharp breath, the sound sending heat flooding to your limbs. _No way._ You shift again, and feel the same brush again. This time you’re sure it’s what you think it is, if the way Jaemin’s hands tighten on your hips, the way he nips a warning onto your neck is any indication.

“Jaemin,” you breathe. “Are you-”

“What do you think?”

His voice is low, rumbling up your spine, breath blowing softly across your skin. “That can’t be too comfortable,” you say, bold words purring out of your lips in a way that’s really only enabled by the alcohol.

“Mm,” he mumbles, cheek still brushing against your shoulder.

“Do want to maybe make it more comfortable?” You thread an arm around his neck, leaning back just slightly, another butterfly touch. To anyone else, it just looks like you’re stretching, but you feel the way Jaemin’s body reacts.

“Fuck,” he breathes. _“Yes.”_

About two minutes later, you’re pressed against the door of the guest room, Jaemin’s lips nipping and sucking your neck, hips slotted against yours. He moans as you roll your hips, hand squeezing your thigh. “Stop that. Or this show will be over before it’s begun.”

“Oh, it’s a show, is it?” You say, threading your hands through his hair, kissing his lips gently. “Have you been practicing, then?”

“The amount of times I’ve thought about-” he hisses as your hand slips between you, palming his erection. “I just figured you wouldn’t be into it.”

“Why would you ever think that?” you say, surprised.

He shrugs. “You’re just...you’re the whole package, you know? I figure you have no shortage of people throwing themselves at you. Funny, hot, good with kids...”

“Ah, Jaeminnie,” you say, flicking the button of his jeans with your nail, kissing him again. “I was about to say the same thing thing about you.”

“Really?”

“Really really.”

And then there’s no more talking, just frantic hands on clothes, hot kisses trailing across bare skin, Jaemin picking you up and placing you gently on the bed. He leans over you, a tender expression on his face, watching your reactions intently as he trails his hand down, circling one around your clit before dipping into you.

 _“Fuck.”_ His teeth dig into his bottom lip as he feels just how wet you are, as his fingers stroke gently in and out, stoking the fire he ignited in the living room with his stupid lap and his stupid sweet cologne. You could never tire of this, you think, as he pleasures you halfway to Heaven, fingers curling in just the right spot, sucking your neck, whispering Korean nonsense in your ear.

“Fuck, Jaemin,” you moan, hips bowing off the bed as your orgasm rolls through you, warmth flooding your body, filling it up and spilling over like a summer rain. Breathing heavily, you open eyes you hadn’t even realized were closed, blinking up at the vision above you. 

Everything about Jaemin is so appealing, from the curve of his lips, the delicate column of his throat, the raw dancer’s power contained in his lean frame...but more than that, he’s your friend, someone who you feel implicitly safe with, someone who really understands you. But will that extend to sex?

Threading your arms around his neck, you draw him down, kissing him deeply. His hand cups your face, featherlight, but the trembling you feel in his limbs says otherwise. “Do you have a condom?” 

He nods, leaning over the side of the bed to grab his wallet from his jeans. Looking at you intently, like he can’t believe the vision of you, lying naked and rosy and beautiful against the sheets, he rips the packet and rolls it on. Positioning himself over you, he slides in, tantalizingly slow, a satisfied sigh rolling from his lips. Waiting a moment for your body to adjust, he waits until you nod to begin moving.

Your head falls back against the pillow as your body sings with sensation. Jaemin’s thrusts are smooth, languid, hitting you at just the right angle that has you seeing stars. Your hips, almost of their own accord, rise to meet his every movement, your hands scratching lightly across his back, making him shiver and moan, burying his head in your neck. 

His breathing becomes shallower, his thrusts faster, and you can feel your body quickening too. Pleasure rises in your belly, growing slowly from a small throb to a crescendo, and then-

Jaemin comes hard, spilling into the condom, and the twitching of his cock inside you, combined with his hand on your clit, brings you over as well. You cling to him for dear life, shaking and moaning and biting into his skin, just a little bit.

When it’s over, Jaemin rolls off of you, disposing of the condom before crawling back onto the bed. He pulls you into his chest, now slightly sweaty from the exertion, tangling his legs with yours.

“So I was right,” you say, twisting and pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“About what?”

“You do taste like peaches.”


	8. Jisung

“Truth or Dare?”

“Dare.”

**“I dare you to choose someone to hug you for the rest of the night,”** Haechan says, grinning evilly.

You laugh. See, you know Haechan. Always three steps ahead (or at least, he thinks he is), you can tell he’s trying for something. Probably expecting whoever it is to get a little too into it and wind up in your bed. But you know better. 

“Jisung-ah,” you say, smiling widely. Everyone groans - of course, you’re choosing the baby - and Chenle looks about ready to throw hands. “Relax, I’m not trying anything with your _dongsaeng,_ it’s like you don’t know me.”

Jisung, a little wide-eyed, shuffles over. You pat the couch beside you, and he sits, hands lacing in his lap. “So, um, hi,” he says. “I wasn’t expecting, um, I mean, not that I don’t want to, but...”

“Don’t think into it,” you say, lowering your voice as you snuggle into his shoulder. “You’re the one person here who wouldn’t make it weird.”

He tenses a little, but relaxes when he realizes your meaning. Winding an arm around you, he gives your other shoulder a squeeze. Man, he’s gotten big. Tall and gangly, with a deep voice to match. The thought makes you a little wistful, remembering the knobby-kneed kid with a mushroom cut you met all those years ago. 

As the game goes on, you find your eyes growing heavy, your mind wandering, and before you know it, you’re out like a light. The last thing you remember is the feeling of being tucked into a soft bed, Jisung’s long fingers pulling the coverlet up to your chin. “Sleep well, noona.”


	9. Renjun (S)

“Truth or dare?” Haechan lifts his chin, eyes gleaming mischievously over the lip of his drink. You don’t trust the look, but you also know better than to fold, especially here of all places.

“Dare.”

“So I’d like to give you something you’d really enjoy,” he says. “But I haven’t forgotten the time you made me streak through the SM café. Therefore... **I dare you to make out with Renjun.”**

Halfway through taking a sip of your drink, you choke. Jaehyun pats you on the back - _have some water_ \- while everyone hoots and hollers around you. Because the simple fact is that _you and Huang Renjun do not get along_. Like fire and water, you’re always poking jabs at each other, turning everything into a competition, always at each other’s throats for something.

You look across the circle, and are unsurprised to find him glowering, hand clenched around his drink. He runs an annoyed hand through his hair, pink strands folding under his slim fingers. 

“Do I have to?” you groan.

“Aw, too chicken?” Haechan croons, voice high and annoying. “Man, I never knew you to down from a challenge, but-”

“Ah, I really hate you sometimes, you know that?” Standing up, you walk over to Renjun. “Huang, you’re up.”

He stands, brushing off his jacket. “You know, I think I should be feeling more used.”

“You’re feeling used?” you say. “All you have to do is close your eyes and stand still, I have to actually kiss you.”

“Oh, is that what you think kissing is? No wonder your body count is so low.”

“Excuse me, my body count-” you splutter. “I’ll have you know, I’m a great kisser.”

“Really?” Renjun says, raising an eyebrow. “Prove it.”

Though he has the same bored expression, something in his tone, the perfectly arched eyebrow, whispers challenge. He’s goading you, and you feel something in your blood rising. Something you’ve always felt, ever since you met him all the those years ago in training, but you’ve always ignored it because, well, he’s _Renjun._

Placing your hands on either side of his head, you pull him close, so close you can nearly taste the heat of his lips, the slight sweetness of the punch he’s been drinking all night. “Just to be clear, I still hate you.”

“Banking on i-” he’s cut off as you kiss him, hard. You mean to take him by surprise, but because he’s Renjun, he’s ready. His hands drop to your waist, squeezing just a little as you kiss. His lips are soft, warm, fitting against yours so perfectly that you almost forget that you’re mad. 

Drawing his bottom lip towards you, tugging on his hair just a bit, you bite down. A husky sound hisses from his throat, and you feel his hands tighten, pulling you closer against him. His tongue darts out, twisting with yours, making your head spin. Your hips slot together, rolling only slightly, drawing another noise from him. It’s like you’re devouring each other, smoke and fire and just a tiny bit of bitterness suffused in the pleasure. 

His hand grips your thigh as your hips grind against his, almost of their own accord, teeth nipping your lip in warning. A spark of heat jumps between you, shivering down your spine and burning away all inhibitions, all thought except the feeling of Renjun’s slim body against yours, the flint and tinder sparking in your chest, the satisfaction at how you’re affecting him.

“Ah, okay, stop, stop,” Haechan calls. You break apart, breathing heavily. Renjun just stares at you, lips pink and bitten, eyes dark. You vaguely hear Haechan saying something, about how there are children present, and how he actually might be Cupid, but it’s all eclipsed as Renjun grabs your hand and pulls you wordlessly from the room. 

You almost don’t make it to the room - Haechan’s, as you later find out - but as Renjun pushes you against the wall, lips pressed to your neck, hand sliding down to where you need him the most, you think, _hate has never tasted this good._


	10. Hendery (S)

"Truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

**“I dare you to give the member with the best hair a five-minute lapdance.”**

A Friday night, a cup of punch, a simple question. That’s how you end up in Hendery’s lap, hand braced against his chest, heat blooming between your bodies like petals across a spring moon as you roll your hips, soft, teasing.

Hendery’s eyes are wide, dark, his mouth falling slightly open as he looks up at you, hands bracketing your hips as you move against him, teasing, tantalizing, each roll of your hips sending eddies of pleasure up your spine, each soft gasp he makes sending you higher. You thread your hands through his hair, pulling his head back just a little, exposing a strip of skin that glows gold in the dim living room lights.

Dropping your head, you press featherlight kisses across his throat as you grind your hips, once, twice, then stop as you feel the sudden hardness against your thigh. _“Fuck,”_ he breathes, the curse sounding more like a prayer as he shivers, body coming alive under your touch.

“And time!” Haechan calls, voice accompanied by the marimba chime of his phone. You look down at Hendery, and are surprised to see how wrecked he looks. Pupils blown, cheeks flushed, throat already blooming a little purple.

“Want to get out of here?” you say softly. He nods, and allows you to lead him upstairs and to the guest bedroom, where your night becomes a haze of soft touches and sighs, holding you through the night until the dawn paints the walls pink and you finally let your eyes flutter closed, ensconced in Hendery’s strong arms.


	11. Jaemin (S)

**Words: 1.3k**

**Warnings:** smut, swearing.

“Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” you say, taking a sip of punch.

“You’re such a nojam,” Haechan says, shaking his head. “Come on. If you choose dare, I’ll give you something you like. Promise.”

He extends his hand, pinky akimbo. With a scowl, you link fingers, thumbs pressing together to seal it. “Let me see. **I dare you to pick a member and play Too Hot with them.”**

Everyone explodes into laughter. “But wait,” Yangyang calls, inclining his chin at you. “No way is that going to work. You were just telling me last week about how you’ve got iron control. No moans, no nothing, ever, that’s like your _thing.”_

Haechan looks at you, eyes glinting. “Is that true?”

You raise an eyebrow. “I am felled by no one. Try me.”

“Okay,” he says. “Prove it. Pick the guy you think you think would go the hardest. Whoever puts hands on the other first or makes a noise loses and the winner decides a consequence.”

“Game on.” 

Draining your cup, you scan the room. Jeno’s hot but too shy, Lucas wouldn’t be able to stop laughing, Renjun would probably straight up refuse...

“Jaemin.”

He looks up, blond hair glinting in the low light. “Huh?”

“You’re like the fan’s dream boy, right?” you say. “Let’s see what you can do.”

Standing up, you walk over, sliding into his lap. His hands nearly grip your thighs out of habit, but you shake your head. “Ah, ah, no hands.”

The side of his lip quirks at your teasing tone. “You really think I’ll go the hardest?”

“No clue, but you’re hot,” you say, intentionally adjusting your position, smiling at little as you see a spark of heat jump into his eyes. You’re not lying (come on, he’s Nana) but if you’re going to win, you need to make sure he’s more worked up than you.

Placing your hands behind your back, you lean forward. Jaemin’s gaze drops to your lips, then back up to your eyes, his own fluttering closed as he leans forward. You meet softly in the middle - Jaemin’s lips are warm, a little chapped, the last vestiges of tequila clinging to his tongue, his kisses curious, something akin to tender. This might be harder than you think.

Jaemin nibbles your lip, drawing it towards you as he tongue slips into your mouth. He flicks it across the corner of your lip, twisting in a little move that nearly draws a surprised squeak from your throat, but you swallow it. Jaemin laughs, the sound rumbling through both your bodies, and you know he felt it.

“Giving up?” he says, pulling back to take a breath. He looks up at you, eyes lazy and only the tiniest bit glazed, lips a little swollen. 

“Not on your life.”

“Guess I’ll have to up the ante then.” Winking, he drops his head, lips going to your collarbone. Feather soft kisses across the tender skin, he finds the vein and bites down. A shiver lances up your spine, a small clench in your lower belly, and you can feel your hands aching with the desire to tug his hair, pull his head back and mark up his pale throat, dig your hands into his broad shoulders, feel him shiver beneath you.

But you bite your lip, holding back a moan as his tongue soothes over the spot, then he bites you again, rolling fast-bruising skin beneath his teeth again and again, shifting his hips a little, causing his thigh to grind between your legs. All this, combined with his completely fucked out expression, the way he looks up you, gauging your reactions, is too much, and you can’t help the small moan that slips from your throat.

“Aha!” Haechan shouts. “I heard that. Game on, indeed.”

You look down at Jaemin, at the cat’s smile flickering across his lips. “Looks like you win, Nana.”

“Indeed.”

“Ah, consequences,” you say. “Please don’t give me anything too nasty. I already had to lick Taeyong’s foot once, I can’t handle that.”

Jaemin laughs, leaning his forehead against yours. “No nasty...unless that’s what you want?”

“Wh-”

“I’m kidding,” he says, winking. “Want to get out of here though? I’ve thought of a couple things to do to you, none of them nasty.”

You nod, taking his hand and allowing him to lead you down the hallway. Pushing the door open, he wastes little time, capturing your lips again, hands closing on your waist and pulling you flush against his body. It’s only then that you feel how affected he is by the whole thing, cock hardening, breath coming in harsh gasps as you pull at each other’s clothes, both losing shirts before you push him back onto the bed, thighs falling to either side of his hips.

“You know, everyone was asking about how vocal I am,” you say. “But what about you?”

Grinding your hips slightly, you trace your hands up his chest, feeling the muscles contract under your touch. “I’m...very...responsive,” he mumbles, sucking in a breath as you scrape your nails, very lightly across his skin, causing his hips to buck up a little.

“What was that?”

“I-” he moans a little as you reach down, fumbling with his belt, pulling his jeans down his legs. His hand traces up your chest, playing with the little jewel on the front of your bra before thumbing open the front clasp, pushing off impatiently. His thumb circles around a nipple, skin ghosting across yours, sending another shiver of pleasure down your body. 

“Playtime later,” you say. After that, there’s no more talking, just panties on the floor, the rip of a condom wrapper, then you sink down onto Jaemin. You hiss a little at the stretch, but his hands are on your thighs, supporting you as you still, letting your body adjust.

Setting your hands on his chest, you begin to move. His head hits the pillow, blond hair spread like a sunburst across the white cotton, mouth falling open a little as you ride him. The familiar clench, warm and sultry, begins in your lower belly, drawing tighter as you move together, the moans spilling from Jaemin’s lips only pushing you higher. 

Twining your arms around his neck, hands twining in his hair, you pull him up into a sitting position. Jaemin’s head falls to your shoulder, arms going around your back as he begins to thrust up into you, the new angle making both of you gasp. “Fuck,” he breathes, pressing sloppy, feverish kisses to your neck as he moves. “Fuck...feel...so...good...”

With one last thrust, he comes in the condom, biting your shoulder, trembling arms caging you to his chest, hand slipping between you to stroke your clit, and then you’re coming too, hands holding his hair in a vice grip, thighs trembling with the effort of staying up as your orgasms overtakes you, rising up and spilling over like the crashing of waves, seagull cries falling from your throat. 

When it’s over, you go boneless, slumping against Jaemin’s chest. His head presses between your breasts, sweaty hair fanning across your skin, breathing heavily. With a grunt, he pulls out of you, then gently places you on the bed so he can get up and dispose of the condom. Coming back to the bed, he flops down beside you, springs creaking just a little.

“Well fuck,” you say, rolling over, propping yourself up on an elbow. Jaemin turns to look at you, expression soft.

“Fuck indeed,” he says, leaning in and pecking your lips. “So were you really lying about the noises? Or am I just special?”

You taking a strand of buttery hand between your hair, tugging slightly, laughing softly as he shivers, the movement shaking his whole body. “Now, where would be the fun in telling you that?”


End file.
